


Just Say Yes (I Do)

by piningfrench



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bio Teacher!Marco, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Mentions of War, POV First Person, Sasha is Jean's sister, Springles love, They're so in love yikes, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, failed attempts at being funny i'm sorry, kinda angsty too because that's just how i am, kinda sassy Marco, lots of feels, non-binary Hange, tattoo artist!Jean, the eremin feels tho i break my own heart, this is honestly so cheesy, tiny bit of erejean, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piningfrench/pseuds/piningfrench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco have been together for a few years now and today's the Big Day. They have waited long enough.</p><p>A story about two mushy dorks, love, choices, friendship, rock'n'roll, ink, happiness & surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jean

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my BETA Gaby (csrugbyworld), for your general awesomeness and constructive advices. You're a gem. x
> 
> Work title inspired by Snow Patrol's song Just Say Yes.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vW1hv37imjw

"You're ready, man?"

I startle at the sound of my bedroom door creaking, Connie's cheerful face appearing at the threshold. He's wearing a rather neat grey tuxedo, white button-up with a ridiculous Darth Vader bowtie around the neck. I can't help but snort at the view. Only one man could wear such a grotesque thing and still rock the tuxedo look.

He replies to my raised eyebrows with a shrug, casually joining me in the middle of the room.

A small sigh leaves my lips as I turn back to face the full-body mirror once again. I'm still debating about whether the bile rising up my throat is due to anxiety rather than excitement. Nobody tells you that choosing a silk or cashmere navy blue necktie on your wedding day feels as though you're about to press the button that could save the world from an incoming asteroid.

 _How can I even pick one?_ _It's just two different fabric materials, blue's still blue!_ I whine internally, praying to whatever high divinity to help me choose already.

Connie must have heard my silent pleas because he's suddenly pulling at the material of the silk necktie between my hands and nimbly starts to fix it around my neck.

 

"Where would you be without me?" the little brat dramatically sighs. I feign thinking hard, eyes cast at the ceiling pensively and honestly tell him:

 

"Probably hitting the road in a Corvet in Miami, not stuck working next to a loud-mouthed prick inking some poor dude's back in a tattoo shop" I snicker as Connie shoves me hard on the shoulder.

 

"Your smart ass would have had quite the pity life if it wasn't for me. Admit it, you love inking as much as I do."

I grin widely at this, eyes quickly glancing at the glimpse of my ink-covered wrist poking out of my sleeve. _Yeah, I do._

I had finished one of my biggest pieces only this morning: a quote by T.S Eliot with an imploding galaxy on the background covering most of the customer's shoulder blades.

The girl had positively _glowed_ when I had showed her the result and I remembered why I was doing this in the first place.

No office job security could ever make me feel as content as I do after a good session of screeching machines and ink-splattered skin coming to life under my fingertips.

I've always loved drawing, even as a kid. Doodles on notebooks during Math classes had turned into sleepless nights spent furiously scribbling under the dim light of my desk lamp.

Then four years ago I had met Connie at a bar on a night out with Sasha and here we are. A couple of beers and a portfolio passed between hands later, Connie had me hired as his shop's apprentice.

He offered me my first machine on my birthday a year later.

Damn, how time flies.

"There you go" the other says after a moment, straightening my shirt collar with a final pat. I nod my thanks and try to hide my shaky hands by stuffing them in my pockets.

"How do I look?" I ask him nervously, puffing my chest in an attempt to steady my breathing pace. The tie feels suddenly too tight around my throat under the other's scrutinizing gaze.

Connie makes a face and laughs a little when my face falls after a beat of silence.

"Definitely not my type bro, but you don't look too bad" he sniggers.

"Thanks for that" I mutter in a breath. I run a trembling hand through my light brown mop of hair, remembering too late I had applied wax earlier and probably ruined the effect. I let my hand fall limp against my side and sigh quietly.

It was stupid to get worked up about something as mundane as passing my house door and driving towards the estate where my wedding was taking place.

Not a big deal in itself, right? You're probably asking yourself why I am being such a drama queen.

But well, I never thought I'd have to stand in front of a friend-self-ordained-wedding-officiant and thirty other people as I'd say yes to the love of my life before. It would set anyone on edge, especially a guy like me.

I was always the kind of guy who spent the majority of his life positive he'd never end up in a serious relationship, let alone a relationship at all. Romance just wasn't my thing I guess. I preferred dedicating my time to my drawing and drumming skills.

Being a tattoo apprentice while playing in a band takes a lot of time. I wasn't ready to give up on that for the sake of 'settling down' with someone.

Then I had met Marco at a frat party in uni and my lifetime bachelor agenda was forever compromised. See Mom, your little boy's not always so damn stubborn. It only takes a freckled miracle to turn his world upside down and spin the laws of the universe around.

And Mom, God knows I wouldn't have it any other way.

I smile to myself when I realise that at this exact moment, in another house, Marco is also getting ready and is probably as nervous as I am. Sharp amber eyes flick their gaze back to me as I turn to face the mirror once more, almost challenging in the early afternoon light and I can feel my hands stop shaking.

"Sasha is waiting for us downstairs" Connie announces, "She was already complaining about being starved to death, saying she still had to suffer the whole ceremony before the buffet was open so I let her assault your pantry shelf in the meantime".

I groan in exasperation at the statement but silently bless the guy. Connie had always been the considerate one. After being with Sasha for over three years, he had learnt the hard way and at what cost my sister's heart came to. Most of the time, two muffins and a pound of pudding would suffice.

I bless Connie's soul for handling the risky situation by himself.

I wouldn't want to endure my sister's constant complains the whole trip to the ceremony. One only has so much patience with dealing Sasha for twenty seven years. My only concern today is to walk towards the aisle without tripping over my shoes and making a fool of myself. The rest will have to wait.

Connie's strong grip on my shoulder snaps me out of my internal monologue.

"Feeling nervous?" he asks softly. For him to be so gentle with me, I must look like I'm about to pass out. Fantastic. I scratch at my freshly shaved jaw and release the breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"A bit. I've never been good with crowds" I mumble with a frown.

"Thirty four people mainly composed of friends and family is hardly a crowd, Jean" the other replies with a light chuckle, "but I understand". He pauses for a second. "Marco will be there, though" he adds with a squeeze on my shoulder.

I want to retort that yes, Marco will obviously be there as he is the groom but I quickly repress it. Connie had rescheduled my appointment in the morning to allow me to blow off steam before the ceremony.

The last few days had been crazy busy between the late planning and the runs to the tailor shop to do some last-minute changes and pick up the suits. He knew me too well now to recognize when I desperately needed an escape from the buzz. I loved him for that, although I'd never admit it aloud.

"Yeah, I know" I whisper more to myself than anything, scraping at my undercut. Marco would be there. _Marco will be there,_ I repeat to myself a second time as a wave of adrenaline swirls and settles in my chest. _Everything will be fine_.

I roll my shoulders feeling suddenly galvanized because _it's_ him _waiting for me, I'm going to marry this man,_ facing the mirror one last time for a last minute check.

Hair, OK. Suit, OK. Tie, OK. Vows, OK. I mentally check as I pat my breast pocket.

"Rings?" I ask at Connie's expectant face staring back at me from his reflection in the mirror. He holds up a small velvet box from his jacket pocket and winks. I grin.

 

"Alright, let's do this"

 

**

 

As I land into the lounge room with Connie on my heels, my gaze trails towards the corner of the kitchen island where Sasha is sitting, busy annihilating an entire cookie in one go.

She locks gaze with me the second she spots me, crumbs stumbling off her chin. She chokes on her mouthful as I walk towards her, eyes widening behind her bangs and looking like an astonished owl. I raise an eyebrow at her then proceed to turn on myself.

"What do you think?" I ask her, amusement dripping in my voice as she coughs a few times to regain some composure.

Her brown eyes scan me once more before she speaks in an unusual soft voice, barely above a whisper: "You look beautiful, baby brother" she tells me with a big toothy grin.

"You're going to be a handsome groom" she adds with a solemn nod and I cross the distance around the island in a few quick paces to dive in for a short hug.

"Thank you, Sash" I whisper in her hair, placing a kiss on her temple and releasing my grip. I take a step back and really take in her outfit for the first time since I've walked in.

Her red dyed hair usually worn in a loose ponytail is pinned together in a half-up braid at the back of her head, curls falling freely on her shoulders. Her strapless light grey dress outlines perfectly the curves of her narrow waist, the floaty material falling elegantly just above the ankles. Her silver high-heeled feet make her look a bit taller than she actually is.

Her rosy cheeks and bright eyes could almost have fooled me. Being twenty eight year-old had never looked so young on someone.

I reach for her hand and make her spin slowly, her bubbly laughter filling the air. I swallow back the lump forming in my throat as I make her spin one last time, hand squeezing her thin knuckles.

"You look gorgeous too, sis" She shrugs nonchalantly with a poorly hidden smirk on her lips and pats my cheek.

"Family trait, I suppose" she retorts and we both laugh.

"Come on Big Boy, the groom is waiting for you!" she exclaims as she wipes the last crumbs off her chin and links her elbow with mine, dragging me outside the house.

I hear Connie chuckle behind me and mutter something that sounds like 'crazy siblings' under his breath before he heads out towards the car as well. Well, I can't say he's wrong. But what kind of life would it be without a little bit of madness, huh?

 

**

 

 

"Sasha, tell me this isn't what I think it is"

 

I deadpan as the sound of the radio booms in the car speakers and Demi Lovato's states loudly that there is nothing wrong with being confident. I glare incredulously at Sasha from the backseat.

The culprit turns around in her seat to look at me over her shoulder, goofy smile never faltering.

"Come on, I know you love this song. Don't lie to me, I've caught you singing in the shower the other day. Let your inner Demi out, it's okay little bud"

She barks a laugh from the driver seat, fingers drumming along the beat on the steering wheel. I feel my cheeks grow hot under Connie's mocking gaze and I wish I could just ditch them on the side of the road, car moving and all. Pity they were my assigned drivers for the day.

"Remind me to never let you crash at my place ever again. Also I'm 27, I'm an adult not your 'little bud'" I reply grumpily, sinking further into my seat.

"No need to worry about that, I don't want to walk on you and Marco celebrating your honeymoon like the two horny lovebirds you are, thank you very much. Also, don't bother remind me you're a grown-up now, you'll always be my baby brother" she sing-songs and I can feel my blush deepening furiously.

An embarrassed groan unintentionally escapes my lips which only makes the two children in the front howl with laughter like a couple of hyenas from The Lion King.

"Who's in charge of the music, by the way?" Connie asks with a wriggle of his eyebrows, leaning back towards me and still chuckling stupidly. I scowl hard at him for a moment, debating whether or not I should answer or let him choke on his own damn saliva.

Before I can make up my mind, a little voice at the back of my head sounding an awful lot like Marco's reminds me to behave because _you're supposed to be kind on your wedding day, Jean!_

 _Too bad he's my best man,_ I think sadly, _Marco would kill me if he'd show up with a black eye_. I opt for a simple shrug in lieu of anything too radical.

"Marco said he'd choose the songs since I chose the place, I don't know what songs he has picked"

I look outside the window and tune out Connie's smart reply (something like an honour being 'restored' and 'poor music taste' vaguely reach me) but I only wave a middle finger in his general direction, eyes following the line of trees along the driveway as we leave the suburb.

Although they irritate me seventy percent of the time, I have to admit I'm glad I have these two goons by my side. My nervousness from earlier had almost entirely faded, only a slight tremor running through my veins due to impatience rather than anything else left.

My unfocused gaze trailing over the landscapes begin to shift into a tall, slim form and I wonder how Marco is going to look like in his wedding suit. I wonder if the laughter lines by his eyes will appear when I'll say 'I do' and I wonder if my hand is going to shake from the thrill when he'll slide the ring around my finger.

There's one thing I don't bother wonder though and it's the only thing that makes the quiver shooting through my veins turn a different kind of restless.

I love him. I love this beautiful, kind, genius of a man and I'd go through all the crowded ceremonies, all the stress and craziness of every wedding planning of this world for one single smile of his. And it's the best kind of scary.

After twenty minutes, I recognize the long stretch of oak trees raising from each side of the road, leading straight to the estate's gates as Sasha slows the car down and parks in front of the building. The nervousness from earlier makes my head dizzy as it runs back to its nest in my stomach.

I can see the suits and cocktail dresses step out of cars from behind the tinted windows and I hear the hushed voices laughing and conversing happily coming from the backyard.

I screw my eyes shut for a second to stamp out the wave of anxiety and exhale slowly through my nose. _It's time. Everybody is waiting for you._ He's _waiting for you_ , I think and the anxious hum in my bloodstream wears off to a distant echo. I feel Sasha's gentle hand stroke my knee as I blink my eyes open.

"Ready?" she asks in a low voice, not even reaching to unbuckle her belt.

Connie isn't moving either, as waiting for a confirmation that I won't start hyperventilating and puke my guts all over his floor. Like I said, always the considerate one. I nod stiffly and start reaching for my belt.

Sasha's grip on my bicep stops me though. I look at her in surprise but she won't let go. Her expression is still soft if only more determined, like she is going to coach a child on his first football match.

"It will be fine, Jean" she assures me, thin brows stubbornly knitted together. Connie nods fervently next to her. I chuckle at her pep talk and nod in return.

"I know" I tell her and I'm proud to note my tone is bulletproof. I know. With a final pat on my knee, Sasha frees herself from her belt and so do I. Connie opens my door and the summer breeze mixing with the scent of lavender reach my nostrils.

 _It smells like him_ , I smile as I plant a foot on the ground and step outside, impatience making my hands twitch and my heart beat strong against my ribcage.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love my Springles babies? Next chapter will be posted some time during next week, I'm still working on the actual ceremony (Marco's POV this time!). I've wanted to write a Jeanmarco fic for ages now and this is what came out of it. Even if English is not my first language, I hope you'll enjoy the ride guys! Bring tissues next time, the cuteness will reach another level. 
> 
> Song mentioned in this chapter: Demi Lovato // Confident
> 
> Comments are always very much appreciated!!!! xx


	2. Marco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”  
> \- Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars
> 
> Songs mentioned in this chapter: (I leave the playlist below for those of you who want to give it a listen!)
> 
> Adele // Rumour Has It  
> Ingrid Michaelson // Turn to Stone  
> Beyoncé // I Was Here (to listen while reading the exchange of vows)  
> Snow Patrol // Chasing Cars (to listen while reading the exchange of vows)

I wave my chocolate stained fingers in front of him, giggling like a child at his growing alarmed expression.

 

"Marco, don't you _dare-_ " he warns me but I launch myself on him before he can threaten me any further. He grunts as we both fall flat against the floor.

I sense him go stiff as I draw chocolate war paint on his cheeks. Jean groans in defeat, hands thrust in the air.

"Haha", I cry victoriously, "I won!"

"Gosh, you're such a child" Jean huffs with a roll of his eyes. I sit back on his thighs, still pining him to the ground.

"Never pretended I wasn't" I reply with a kiss on his cheek.

"You taste good, too" I add to myself licking off my lips. He watches me from under heavy-lidded eyes and _Damn_ , this is becoming another kind of entertaining.

 

I lean forward to graze his lips with mine, feeling him relax under me as he hums in response, hands firmly grasping my thighs. We move slowly at first, lips barely touching and each sigh lost in the other's mouth.

 _I'll never grow tired of this_ , I swear to myself as Jean presses his lips more urgently against mine and I whimper when his grip on me tightens, bringing us closer.

I break the kiss barely breathing, head spinning from a scandalous amount of unholy thoughts. Jean won't have it though. He protests when I draw back, lips chasing after mine for another kiss.

With a final peck on his lips, I sit back on the floor and pick up another strawberry from the bowl.

 

No wonder I was starving after spending the afternoon running with Luke. My brother had invited me to accompany him as he prepared for his incoming race. He was used to run at least three times a week in preparation of the annual marathon but my sport routine consisted mainly of stretching my arm as long as possible to reach the TV remote. Impressive, I know.

So it goes without saying that it had been hell on Earth to keep his pace and not wheeze my lungs out.

 

"What?" the charmant man next to me grumbles and I realise I've been staring at him the whole time. I roll my eyes and toss him the seed of my strawberry.

"Nothing, Mr Grumpypants. I was just thinking," I say as I reach to dip another strawberry in the mixing bowl full of melted chocolate. He tosses the seed that had landed right on his forehead ( _Yay!_ ) aside and sits upright.

"About?" he demands as he reaches to steal the strawberry from my hand and swallows it whole in one motion. I grimace at him and shrug.

"Would you like me better if I was built like Reiner's brother?" I wonder aloud. His eyebrows shoot into his hairline at the unexpected question.

"I haven't met his brother but if he looks anything like Reiner, I'll have to ask you why the sudden interest in bodybuilding" Jean replies with a snort.

 

I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing at the thought of a bodybuilded version of myself. Gosh, I would be terrifying.

 

"No, for real" I start again, "If I were to gain a brand new six-pack, would you like me better?" I reiterate. Jean remains silent for a second, his usual scowl now replaced with a blank expression.

 

"I can't believe you're dumping me for a bodybuilder career" he finally whispers in feigned shock. I roll my eyes again at his wounded look, a barely noticeable smirk contorting his mouth. Without warning, he abruptly titls his head back to the ceiling with his mouth opened in a silent scream. I frown in confusion when the jerk starts _singing:_

 

" _She, she ain't real, She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will_ _"_ , he sings in a literal _wail_ as I bury my face in my hands in shame.

Ooooh, my god.

"... _You and I have history or don't you remember? Sure, she's got it all"_ he sings even louder to shush my pained moans. There's chocolate dripping everywhere when he starts using the big spoon as mic. _Kill me, now_.

 

" _But, baby, is that really what you want?"_ he trails off because he's laughing too hard to finish his verse, falling flat on the floor for the second time, his body shaking with spams of laughter.

 

"I can't even believe you listen to Adele" I groan. He glares at me from his place on the floor.

 

"Don't be jealous of my perfectly reasonable taste in music, Marco. I'll let you borrow my CD some day, pinky promise" he winks and shoves a playful foot in my shin. I glare hard at him and blow away the bangs blocking my vision with a puff.

 

"You're unbelievable" I state.

 

Before he can sit up again I crawl between his legs, both hands framing the sides of his head. His chocolate flavoured war paint has almost dried now. He meets my eyes, liquid amber melting into golden hazel, his laughter dying instantly in his chest. I lean over to catch his lower lip in a playful bite. He hums in response but before he gets carried on, I pull back and grin down at him.

"No more kisses for you, smart-ass" I sing-song.

 

"Come on Marco, now that's just unfair" he fusses but I shut him up with an index.

 

"What do we say?" I ask him with a quirked eyebrow. He sighs loudly at that and starts mumbling under his breath about how his own boyfriend cockblocks him but I don't waver.

 

"Fine, I'm _sorry"_ he gives in, "but I like you this way just fine, you know" he says like it's no big deal. I don't know why it is though and I huff in frustration.

 

I honestly can't even tell why I'm so concerned about it. Old insecurities from highschool and gym changing rooms had sneaked back a few weeks ago when Luke had proposed me to join him on his jogging sessions.

Even though we're twins; same tanned skin, same dark hair and pool of freckles dotting our cheeks, Luke has always been thinner than I. His body is slender from hours of lifting and running while mine is devoid of any defined muscles.

After our first jogging session, I had started to become hyper-aware of every tiny roll of fat on my body all of a sudden. I couldn't manage to shake off the thoughts that my waist and chest looked average at best under the right light. My abs were not as shaped as Luke's and my shoulders were not as broad as Reiner's. Nothing special, in short.

Jean had walked on me one day, shoulders slumped and frowning as I examined myself in front of the bathroom mirror. He had silently kissed the back of my neck, hand reaching for his toothbrush and that was that. He didn't comment. The thoughts only increased though, crawling under my skin and twisting their thorns in my sides.

 

From the corner of my eyes I observe Jean's frown deepening at my silence. He scoots over to me and cradles my cheek in his hand to force me look at him. My head hangs low as I try to hide my shameful blush but he doesn't let go and eventually, my eyes rise to meet his.

 

"Marry me", he says and I almost laugh at the abrupt change of subject.

 

I wait for him to burst out laughing, for him to say it's just a prank as he resumes eating but Jean's eyes glisten like a fire has been lit in them, his hand not moving from my cheek and I realise; he's being serious.

There's electricity cursing through my veins and I wonder if he can hear the riot thriving in my chest. He probably does. His eyes are saying things that leave me clueless.

They're telling me that I am beautiful, in any shape and form and that he will remind me of that fact everyday if he has to. They're saying I have everything special. They're promising he will always be the anchor to my drifting thoughts, grounding me in the here and now because that's the only thing that matters, in the end.

 

In the here and now, his eyes are saying things that couldn't be translated accurately into words and I love him. _I love_ _him_. I take his head in my hands and kiss him hard on the mouth, chest tight, only breaking the kiss to reply:

 

"Yes" I whisper softly, lips touching his as I speak. I screw my eyes shut, a wide grin stretching on my face. I breathe in his scent, taking into memory the taste of his skin, of his breath. He smells like honey wax and vanilla softener. It makes my heart ache.

 

" _Yes"_ , I promise and I've never meant something more in my life. Jean brushes his nose against my cheek. All my doubts blow into smithereens.

 

 

**

 

 

"Oi, Marco!" A husky voice jolts me awake as the memory fades. My head snaps towards the source of the voice and I smile when I see whose owner it belongs to.

"Hey, Ymir" I grin as I pass my arms around her shoulders, "Thanks for coming".

She takes a step back and I brace myself for the familiar greeting. As expected, the freckled bully shoves me hard on the arm with a fist and smirks. _That's going to hurt tomorrow._

"Jean's still not there?" she asks me.

"No. I think he's on his way, though" I say as I watch her search the crowd for a brown mop of hair.

She is wearing a tailored black suit that sculpts her tall figure, simple white shirt and thin black tie. She looks fancy and I can't help but smile at the sight of her hair freely falling on her shoulders. Ymir never wears her hair down. Says it's not 'practical' for when she rides her bike. Krista must have used one of her tricks for her to accept, probably playing the cousin's wedding card to oblige her to make an effort. _I'll have to thank her later,_ I note, _it really looks great on her_.

A bit further, I notice Luke promptly striding towards us to dodge a lecture from our very serious-looking mother. He stops next to me with a thankful sigh, as if he had just escaped a car crash.

"Mom won't stop asking when I'm going to propose to Annie," he explains, "I really need a drink". He makes a face when I inform him that the champagne is only passed out during the reception. Our mother would probably come nagging him again later and I feel a bit sorry for him. Nothing could stop her when she had something in mind.

Our conversation is interrupted when Armin comes standing under the floral arch and asks for silence.

 

"The ceremony will start in a moment", the blonde jovially shouts above the guests' conversations. _The guy really takes his job at heart_ , I think with a smile, _he has even traded his black ear plugs for navy ones_.

 

Luke takes his place on my left as Ymir shoves me once more and goes sit in the second row. Krista appears next to Luke then, beautiful as always with her fair hair neatly pinned in a sophisticated bun.

Connie comes out of nowhere a few seconds later to take his place on Armin's right, sending enthusiastic thumbs up to me. _The classy look suits him_ , I decide as I return him one. His dark skin elegantly contrasts with the palor of his grey suit. He adjusts his _Star Wars_ bowtie in a haste, combing back invisible hair on his head. _What a nerd._

I exhale a breath through my nose to expulse the coming rush of adrenaline, Armin offering me a reassuring smile, then nods to Mina to start playing the music.

Every remaining conversation dies in the attendance as tender piano keys carry through the afternoon breeze. All the focus is now turned to the two figures appearing at the end of the aisle.

 

He's wearing a light grey suit that matches mine, progressing with Sasha's arm passed under his. His hair is a bit tousled at the top like he has run his hand there too many times. I feel goosebumps running on my arms as Ingrid Michaelson's gentle voice echoes around us.

Our eyes meet across the garden, an almost shy smile curving his lips when he gets close enough to see me. It takes every ounce of my will power not to run to him and kiss him senseless. He's beautiful. How did I even stand a chance?

It takes me a moment to remember breathing is a thing, the walk towards the aisle finally coming to an end. My eyes don't leave Jean's for one second because I'm afraid he'll vanish if they do and I don't want it to be just a dream.

Sasha delicately places his hand in mine, his palm warm and grounding and I know this is real. This is happening. I grin back at him.

In an afterthought, I take Sasha's face between my hands and kiss her forehead in thanks. She blushes prettily and goes standing by Connie's side. The last bit of the song eventually fades into silence and Armin begins to speak:

 

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate..." his soft voice begins but there's nothing else around me except from the man facing me. His gaze studies me intently like he's discovering me for the first time.

There's a restlessness in my blood that can't seem to subside, his name carving itself deeper in the cavity of my chest with every beat. I can't get enough of him, I reckon, and it scares me a little. I remember the first time I have laid eyes upon him.

 

It was during a frat party Armin had dragged me in, on our last year of college. I had spotted him leaning on a wall alone as the party was raging around us. He had a red beanie on and the most spectacular scowl I'd ever seen.

I had crossed the room and passed him a rhum-filled cup over with a smile. He had raised a questioning eyebrow at me, glaring at the cup like it was going to bite him. I had shown him the content of my own cup, assuring him it was only alcohol but he had just shrugged in return and taken a cautious sip.

"What's your name?" I had slurred, feeling already tipsy. He had gagged a bit at the taste of the cheap alcohol in his mouth.

"I'm Jean. Major in Art. You?" he had replied. Only then, I had noticed the dark ink covering his skin, his amber eyes curiously watching me as my gaze trailed over his arms. When I had met his eyes once more, I remember thinking _They're liquid fire_ and the memory makes me smile.

"My name's Marco. Biology" I had said extending my free hand to him.

"It's nice to meet you, Jean."

 

 

**

 

 

I look at him now and see everything I saw back then.

Maybe there's a reason for all of this, for us crossing paths that defies gravity and space and time. Maybe in an another dimension, he's not there and I'm a black hole collapsing on itself. Maybe in another he's the Sun and I'm the Moon, forever chasing after a kiss that burns my lips and turns them to ashes.

Maybe this is our revenge on the infinite number of lives we've got to live without the other.

Another brush of his thumb brings me back to Earth which I'm grateful for because I know I've been zoning out. I see a cocky smile cracking up his features when he realises I've been staring at his lips the entire time. _I really need to stop doing that_.

My eyes snap back to Armin who is staring back at me, waiting for me to speak as well as the rest of the assembly. _Shoot_.

I cough a sound close to a yelp and straighten my back. Jean's eyes are glowing.

 

"There are plenty of ways for me to say how much I love you and how I can't imagine my life without you anymore," I start with a slight tremor in my voice, "but you know I only do complicated"

 

I hear some of the guests chuckle at that. Jean smirks back at me, his eyes not leaving mine as I continue:

 

"You made the last five years possibly the happiest years of my life. I know a lot of people don't have the chance to be loved by someone as genuine, unique and as incredibly caring as you. I know I should be happy I were even granted the chance to call you mine. I should be content with standing in front of you today and say it's all I need. But I can't, because It's not enough. I don't think it will ever be."

I pause to take a breath.

"I want more of you, more of your stubbornness and witty remarks, more of your sleepy face and your weird habits. I want to know what it's like to be seventy and read you novels aloud because your arthritis has gotten worse and you can't hold a book. I want more of this. Call me a greedy bastard, I don't care. I want you now and always, in this life and in the next if this one wasn't enough."

 

My voice is hoarse and my chest is tight but my hands don't shake in Jean's grip. His Adam's apple bobs and he squeezes my hands a bit tighter.

From the front row, I hear someone sniff loudly along a few others.

Jean blinks a few times, clearly struggling to find his voice back. He eventually huffs a puff of breath.

 

"I'm sure you're proud of yourself" he whispers, his low voice amused.

 

"Can't say I'm not" I reply with a small chuckle.

 

Armin then asks for Jean to say his vows, his own cerulean eyes looking clearer than before. I see droplets forming at the corner of his eyes but he obstinately fights against the overflow. _Oh, Armin_.

 

"You told me once that it takes a lot of courage to stand up for ourselves and recognize when it's time for us to be happy" Jean speaks softly as for my ears only to hear.

 

"My life was a dull shade of grey before you came along and turned all the colours into bright yellows and electric blues. I've never loved art as much as I do since you came into my life, and I think it says a lot about you and me. Art gave me a purpose when I hadn't any. It saved my life countless of times, and so did you."

 

I feel a tear roll down my cheek but I can't bring myself to care. Wiping it off would mean letting go of his hands and I'd be damned if I did because in this moment, his hold on me is the only thing that pines me to the ground.

 

"You know me, I am a pessimist at heart" he goes on, "I've never believed in soulmates and destiny. I believe that the people we meet are products of coincidence, lucky encounters at best. I don't know if we were meant to be, but you wandered in one day and completely turned my life around. You opened my eyes and showed me it was time for me to be happy, now."

 

There's a small pause where he inhales feebly.

 

"You make me believe in things I didn't think were possible, you bring the answers to questions I never dared to ask. And Marco, of all of the people walking this earth that could have crossed your path, I'm lucky to be the one who's got to love you"

 

I'm openly crying at this point, a bubbling laugh catching in my throat.

 

Falling in love with him was never my choice to make. But, my God, I'd make that choice again and again in a heartbeat if it meant I'd get to hold his hand.

 

I wonder if I will ever get off this train. I recognize I simply don't want to.

 

I look at him and I think: _What did I even do to deserve you?_

 

Around us, Sasha is holding Connie's hand in an iron grip, both of their faces tears-stained. The sight only makes me laugh harder. I hear Luke clear his throat behind me and Krista let out a faint gasp.

Most of the assembly is in the same state we both realise as we turn around to take in the view, Jean's laughter joining mine. Within seconds the whole garden is vibrating with soft laughter and wet smiles.

Armin then nods at Connie to bring over the rings. My best friend orders me first to take the ring and repeat the words as old as the world:

 

"I, Marco Bott, take you Jean, to be my husband. I promise to cherish you, to love you in illness or health, for better or worse. I choose you from this day forward until the end of my days" I recite as I slide the black titanium band on his finger. It fits perfectly.

 

Jean reaches for my ring with a steady hand and starts reciting the oath. He locks fierce eyes with me as he speaks:

 

"I, Jean Kirstein, take you Marco, to be my husband. I promise to cherish you, to love you in illness or health, for better or worse. I choose you from this day forward until the end of my days" he promises as he slides the white gold band on my ring finger.

My heart aches to kiss him.

 

I quirk an impatient eyebrow at Armin who laughs and promptly pronounces us _husband_ and _husband_.

 

 _My husband_ , I relish as I crash my lips on Jean's before Armin can even finish his sentence. The whole attendance bursts into a mix of cheering and loud clapping. We don't notice. Only if for a brief moment, the world stops spinning and it's just the two of us.

 

He returns the kiss with just as much fervour, our lips pledging wordless promises with each drawing breath and I think: _this is how stars are born._ He relaxes in my arms, barely breaking the kiss to rest his forehead on mine.

 

"I love you" he sighs and he's so beautiful, I can't believe he's mine.

 

"I love you, too" I tell him and I do. I really do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've cried writing this ajkdfjkdkfs. Anyway, I really hope you liked this chapter, it was my favourite to write so far as well as the longest (I've never written so much for a single chapter before, wow). 
> 
> (and thank you XxLevixX for the rec, Sleep on the Floor is such a good song!)
> 
> Comments are always very much welcome! Tell me what you think of it. xx


	3. Jean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go guys! I hope you enjoy this one. It was hell to write and I can't seem to be truly satisfied with it but I'll let you judge by yourselves :)
> 
> UPDATE: This chapter is currently being edited due to obvious lack of inspiration and mistakes found every three sentences (I am so, so sorry)

_This is such a bad idea._

 

"Marco, I'm going to fall!" I signal him, clinging onto him for dear life while his grip on my thighs loosens with each passing second.

 

He's wanted to take me to the reception on a piggyback ride in a remake of the carry-the-bride-over-the-threshold custom. I've refused at first, stating that we were going to mess up our suits but then he had made the most pitiful pout ever and I blew it.

He's laughing so hard I can barely hold on, the ground ready to welcome me head first the faster he runs. I yelp when he takes a sharp turn to avoid a group of guests coming our way and heads for the side of the building, my arms accidentally slipping around his throat in the process.

 

"Jean, I can't breathe" he wheezes out while trying to get me off his back which only makes the whole thing even worse.

 

"I told you it was a bad idea! Are you okay?" I chew on my lip, feeling torn between huffing an exasperated sigh (solely out of concern, in his defence it has been rather fun) and asking him to sit for a minute. He shakes his head yes, still chuckling breathlessly as he leans against the wall to recover. His cheeks are slightly flushed with exertion and I would be lying if I said I'm not enjoying the view. He's radiating with childish glee.

I open my mouth to tell him he's a 28 year-old child but he hushes me with a hand over my mouth, waiting for the voices of guests passing by to die before he turns back to me and grasps my waist.

 

"They're going to wonder where we went, you know" I huff a bit indignantly after being cut off so rudely.

 

"They won't notice if we escape for a moment", he affirms as he moves in my personal space, "they're probably already drunk."

 

Marco closes the gap between us, yet leaving one or two residuary inches between us. At the proximity, any further complaint I had immediately dies on my tongue.

 

 _The rest can wait for a few minutes_ , I reckon, _this is a more urgent matter_.

 

"Hi there" he whispers, his breath tingling my skin. _He has gained new freckles,_ I notice. They form constellations across his nose and cheeks, almost invisible under his tanned skin. I had spent an entire morning counting them once while he was still asleep. There are fifty four of them.

 

"Hi" I echo, voice low and husky. It's getting hard to focus with his scent lingering around me, our sighs mingling in the gap between our lips. His hands drift under my suit vest, exploring and warm. _There's definitely too much fabric and not enough touching_ , I conclude but the sound of footsteps approaching stops us halfway.

 

Marco presses me further to the wall in an attempt to hide us from sight. _Just go away,_ I mentally pray, _give us five more minutes._

It sounds like the stranger comes from the parking lot, their footsteps grinding on the rocky path and suddenly stopping in a halt. A familiar pair of emerald green eyes link with as they turn to face us from around the corner.

 

"Heard there was a party going around here I wasn't invited to?"

 

No fucking _way._

 

" _Eren_ fucking _Yeager_ ," I swear loudly. Marco barks a baffled laugh and lets go of me, embracing the guy in a rib-crushing hug.

 

I could punch him. Not that I would ever miss a chance when I get one but right now, he's just asking for it.

 

"It's good to see you too, lovebirds" Eren snickers, clasping Marco's shoulder cheerfully.

 

Damn him. A whole fucking year and he shows up like this, wearing a suit like it's second skin and all his limbs still in place.

We had bet fifty pounds that the army would cost him an arm. I guess I've lost but truth be told, I probably would have burned them if I'd won.

 

When he opens his arms to me with an arrogant smile stuck on his face, I'm from this to sock him one square in the jaw. I shake my head and slam my body into him instead.

 

"You bastard _"_ I grin in his ear. Eren squeezes me tight for a moment. He's gotten thinner, I reckon. His ribs graze painfully against mine through the fabric of our shirts. He lets go of me after a beat, his grin looking slightly more forced.

 

 _He looks so much older than 26_ , I think as I take a better look at him; his usual mess of black hair is shaven to the bare minimum and there are new riddles by his eyes. He has gained dark circles too, shadows falling on his tanned cheeks but there are no missing parts; his chest is still rising, his bones are still moving.

He stands in the golden light like he owns the world. He always has.

 

"When did you come back?" Marco inquires, the shock in his voice not faltering.

 

I can't believe he's here either, to be honest. The last time we saw him, he was getting on a plane for a military camp in Gaza. I had lost hope to ever see him come back otherwise than in a casket.

 

"My plane has landed yesterday evening. I haven't told Mikasa and Armin yet" he replies. He scratches his scalp uncomfortably and I grimace when I realise he hasn't seen them in over a year either.

 

Mikasa is going to murder him for sure, if only for the fact that her brother came back from war without giving her a call. _I_ would kill him. Damn, I've wanted to since the day he signed up for this suicide mission.

Not telling his sister is bad enough in itself but I sense my face fall at the thought of Armin.

Armin who still thinks his boyfriend is fighting on the front lines, lost between hand grenades and the sound of flying bullets. He must have spent days and nights waiting for that final call; the one saying that Eren had fallen during a mission and that his fellow soldiers had been proud to fight by his side.

The thought makes me shudder.

I don't know how I would have coped if it had been Marco back there. Not knowing if his return would mean throwing him a welcome back party or planning for his funeral. Armin didn't like to talk about it that much but we knew. He's just the quiet type.

 

"Come on then", Marco leads Eren gently by the arm, "let's go back to the party".

 

I clap Eren's back as we head towards the sound of glass clicking and people chatting. His eyes won't leave the open door the whole time, his hands drawn into fists by his sides. He nods to himself once as for steeling his nerves. I squeeze his shoulder in sympathy.

I hear him hold his breath as we pass the threshold.

 

 

 

**

 

 

 

The conversations don't pause when we enter the room, most of the guests gathered by the buffet where Sasha is shooting wary looks at anyone who dares approach her plate too close. I search for Mikasa and Armin in the sea of faces but before I can spot any of them, I sense Eren go tense next to me.

 

I see her then, standing a few feet from us and lazily chatting with Annie. She is dressed in a little black dress with her silk red scarf draped around her neck. Her dark gaze flashes briefly over us as if drawn by motion before she freezes mid-talk and the sound of glass shattering to the ground draws everyone's attention back to her. A heavy silence falls on the room, all eyes travelling back and forth between Mikasa and the stranger standing at the door.

Nobody moves for one endless minute until Eren finds his composure and takes a step forward. His confidence falters when his sister doesn't react, doesn't even blink. Her ebony eyes stay fixated on her brother but her expression remains unreadable. She seems to be made of marble.

 

A tentative voice then cuts through the thick silence and I feel my heart break a little.

 

"Eren?" Armin calls, his voice wavering at the edge. His tone sounds faint, almost hesitant as if he's not sure if what he is seeing is real. Eren flinches like he's just been slapped.

Armin seems to struggle for a moment, his eyes wide and drinking in Eren's figure. In the following silence, I swear I hear Eren stiffle a sob between clentched teeth.

 

"Oh my god" the blonde finally chokes, the spell breaking instantly.

 

Eren's entire demeanor shifts as Armin's body comes to collide with his. Armin lifts both of his hands to each side of Eren's gaunt face, letting them wander and caress every ounce of skin like a blind man reading braille. Eren screws his eyes shut and melts into his touch, murmuring inintelligible words that cause Armin to exhale a shaky laugh.

Armin's ocean eyes never stop devouring Eren's features, obvious relief washing over him and shaking his body in tidal waves. He runs a hand down Eren's cheek and up to the crook of his neck, nails digging gently at his nape before he closes the gap and dives for a fierce kiss. Eren drowns into the kiss gladly, his body shifting closer to the blonde without paying any attention whatsoever to the thirty curious pairs of eyes observing them albeit awkwardly. The scene feels so private, so precious and I wish there weren't so many people in the room to witness it.

I'm sure the couple doesn't mind one last bit, though.

 

I make out Connie and Ymir's cursing from behind us, both swearing in at least seven different languages and I really can't hold it against them. My knuckles are clamped tight between Marco's. Mikasa still hasn't moved from her place though. Annie keeps glancing worried looks at her, unsure about what to do.

 

Eren plants a final kiss on Armin's forehead before he lets his eyes return on his sister standing across the room, still unmoving. He lets go of Armin only to intertwine his fingers with his and calls:

 

"Hey 'Kasa" he greets, the nickname slipping of his tongue timidly. "I'm back"

The sound of his voice seems to bring her out of her torpor. Her heels click on the tiles as she runs right into his arms, burrowing her head in his chest and squeezing his slim frame like she's afraid he'll go flying if she doesn't hold on tight.

Eren hushes her broken sobs with kind words, smiling warmly down at her as he whispers in her hair:

 

"I'm home" he tells her but it only makes her cry harder.

 

There is a beat of confused silence in the room before Marco saves us from witnessing any more the intimacy of the moment and talks:

 

"Alright everyone, I think it's time for music. DJ, please!" he decrees with a clap of his hands. Mina nods eagerly and scuttles towards the plugged laptop, her cheeks rosy from watching the enthusiastic display of affection. Drums and piano notes blast through the speakers as the intro of [Tear In My Heart](https://www.google.fr/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3Dnky4me4NP70&ved=0ahUKEwjn9ZmWv8DNAhWEtxQKHTprAKQQyCkIHTAA&usg=AFQjCNHsS8SYaaWtU50UsqlIps-4_d8sqQ&sig2=Gril2noKHgIIVrB_aHCAwg) vibrates against the walls.

Some guests send curious looks our way but they quickly turn their attention back to the dancefloor where Connie has dragged a laughing Sasha by the hand, shouting her the lyrics as he climbs on a chair. Her giggles carry through the room and I can't help smiling.

 

I pull at Marco's hand and lead him to the dancefloor, leaving the trio alone.

They look the same they did one year ago, but I know something has changed irrevocably between them and it cannot be helped. War does strange things to people.

It takes and takes without giving anything back in return, only leaving empty beds behind and people with broken hearts that can't quite ever heal.

 

Eren has claimed he was doing this for him, either it was his suicidal side speaking or some sort of sick hero complex, I guess we'll never know. But it changed him and through him, it affected us too. It may have marked us less profoundly than it did for him but the ripples war left behind would always reach us.

 

We're one big family, after all, and families share the burden without a second thought. We're the nucleus in the middle of chaos.

 

I've known these people for years now and I know their strength.

Time heals all wounds they say and I hope theirs will fade without leaving angry scars in their wake. I know their skin is thicker than the cracks beneath the surface and that they've always found a way to overcome the hardships coming their way. I want to believe this will be no exception. It has to be.

 

It has to.

 

 

 

**

 

 

 

"Silence for the grooms, please!" Luke shouts from his chair, clinking his glass with a spoon.

 

The happy chatting and sounds of cutlery fade out as Luke stands and Ymir throws a mic in his direction. It's a miracle he doesn't let it drop in his plate.

Luke applauds himself proudly when it doesn't and raises his hand to high five Ymir. He lets his hand fall limp by his side though, as he realises she's sitting three tables away. It looks like he's got a few too many drinks.

 

"I want to raise a toast to my brother Marco and my brother-in-law, Jean" he slurs, "for being such an inspiration to all of us".

 

We both smile warmly at this, Marco's hand covering mine on the table. Luke turns his gaze to the rest of the room, eyes squinting as he tries to make out the faces in front of him. The content of his glass sways dangerously in his hand.

 

"They've been through pretty much everything since they've started dating," he continues, "beginning with the biggest hangover known to man."

 

Marco lets out a groan next to me but I chuckle at the memory. Luke and Marco's twenty fourth birthday party had been one of the best and worst nights we've ever lived.

 

I recall waking up to the sound of heavy metal blaring from the next room, the living room full of passed out students sprawled on the floor. Marco and I had fallen asleep on each other; with his legs tangled in mine and one of his hands gently punching me in the face, I had struggled to sit up without hurling. My head had felt like it was splitting in two.

It had taken us days to sober up. We had begun to think our blood had turned into pure alcohol at this point. We had promised we'd quit alcohol for good after that, and of course we didn't. We're fools that never learn from their mistakes.

 

"Thanks to them I've learnt the meaning of 'consuming alcohol with moderation', as you all can tell" Luke hiccups and winks knowingly, provoking another wave of cackling in the room.

Annie's icy eyes glare daggers from her place and I'm glad I'm not the one she's aiming at. Luke shifts uncomfortably under her stare.

 

"...Errrr, anyway. My point is; I've always thought Marco would end up dating his poster of Justin Timberlake so I can only congratulate him for choosing its human embodiment," he continues as the room roars with laughter, Ymir and Reiner's guffaw rising above the rest.

 

Marco grows five shades of dark red next to me. When I quirk a single questioning eyebrow at him, he only groans louder and covers his face with one hand, refusing to be witness of the trainwreck happening in front of him.

 _Poor baby_.

 

Luke then raises his glass to me and I do the same, laughing and squeezing Marco's hand in mine.

 

"You're a good guy, Jean." Luke resumes, sounding more sober than before.

"Of all the dudes my brother could have chosen, it is safe to say you're the best of them" he affirms, nodding solemnly as to emphasize his words. He turns towards the rest of the room once more and raises his glass higher.

 

"To Jean and Marco, for being the best gay versions of themselves and for probably being at the head of the next Todd Haynes movie".

 

He pauses for a moment then and mumbles under his breath, his voice husky from alcohol:

 

"And to myself, for not remembering any of this tomorrow morning" he concludes, draining the content of his glass in one gulp.

 

The room erupts into thunderous applause and frank howls of laughter, Connie and Eren's whistles coming from a few tables further rising above the rest as they both raise their glasses in cheers. I'm still laughing when Annie comes dragging Luke back to his place by the knot of his tie.

 

Sasha interrupts the general hilarity to announce the first waltz of the grooms, thus officially opening the dance floor for the rest of the night.

 

Marco has gained enough composure to grin back at me as we walk towards the middle of the room, his cheeks still flushed pink under the dim spot lights. The sight sends butterflies flying in my stomach. His hand finds its place on the small of my back as the intro of delicate violin notes starts resonating around us.

 

My breath hitches when I recognize the song.

 

I follow Marco's smooth lead with a swaying rhythm, struggling to step in sync and careful not to crush his toes. His hazel eyes sparkle with amusement at my seriousness and I can't help thinking about the first time we danced like this.

 

We were standing in his kitchen after a dinner out with Sasha and Connie. I had told him I had never learnt how to waltz. He had been blown away by the revelation (because apparently you can't have lived if you hadn't danced the waltz at least once in your life) so he had decided to teach me right on the spot.

Even though it was one a.m and his eyes were bright with exhaustion, he put on this song and taught me patiently when to move, where to place my feet and hands, correcting me every five seconds because I could never get it right.

He didn't complained once about my terrible dancing skills.

 

It was the night I knew I was in love with him.

 

Even now, he doesn't utter a word as I stumble a little, breathing an apology when I stomp on his shoe. He only smiles and brushes his lips on my forehead in a fleeting kiss.

 

 

 

_"And I couldn’t help but ask, for you to say it all again._

_I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen._

_I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time,_

_that the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes."_

 

 

The lights dance around us are like fireflies, casting star-like reflections to the ceiling. We move perfectly in sync now, Marco's eyes never leaving mine.

 

His wedding ring catches the light in a silver glimmer and it perfectly matches with the opaque shade of my own; the contrast of a silver moon against a pitch-black night sky.

 

I'm hit by the sudden clarity of it all.

 

Marco is standing here, beautiful and _mine_ because he chose me.

 

Of all the people, he chose _me_ and promised to keep choosing me as long as I keep choosing him and I almost laugh. I'm not sure I could ever stop loving this man.

 

Loving him is like breathing and him loving me is like the pulsing beat of my heart. Loving him feels like flying with both feet on the ground.

 

It feels like being alive.

 

I dive for a kiss, pouring myself into it and I pray that he feels it all; all the things I can't say aloud because putting words on them would only cheapen their meaning. I pour it all but I'm not scared to be left empty when I'm done.

 

I can't seem to find the pit of my love for him.

 

Marco kisses me back just as intensely, his hand scraping my nape as to anchor himself and I wonder how can someone be the tide and the pillar all at once.

 

I wonder why it surprises me. He never did well with fitting in a mold.

 

When he opens his eyes again, I know he does and for once, it's enough.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> \- Twenty One Pilots // Tear In My Heart  
> \- Sleeping at Last // Saturn (waltz)
> 
> As always, comments are the highlights of my day!! xx


	4. Marco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISES EVERYWHERE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the final chapter! After days of fighting against a nasty writer block, I've finally finished the longest (over 6,5k words OMG) and last chapter of this fic. This one is longer than the others because the two major scenes present in this chapter meant a lot to me and I absolutely had to write them together. So I decided not to cut this chapter in two and left it as it is. It has definitely been my favourite chapter to write and I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! I'll probably edit some possible mistakes I've let slip through tomorrow (I apologize for that though, I hope there aren't many ;-;) but I wanted to share the end with you guys ASAP. Brace yourselves for lots of feels, revelations and shameless song recs from me (admit it you love it)

I slump gratefully into a free chair, wiping sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. My head is spinning from the buzz of alcohol, the flashing of strobe lights and the techno beats of drums vibrating in my chest, all leaving me a little bit disoriented.

Jean sinks into the chair next to me, struggling to catch his breath. He looks a bit disheveled in the faint red and blue light, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his tie hanging low on his throat. He's smiling though and reaches for my hand mind-absently on my lap, intertwining my fingers with his. It's the hand with the ring on, I notice with a smile, squeezing it as I return my gaze on the dancing guests.

 

"I can't keep up with Reiner, he's on fire" I exhale, panting and pointing at the mad man spinning on himself in front of us.

 

"Nobody can, this guy is probably high on caffeine among other stuff I don't want to think about" Jean scoffs back, reaching for a glass of water.

 

The man in question is hollering very excited 'woo-hoo's every thirty seconds, startling some of the guests who move to stand a bit further and away from the potential mess he's on the brink of committing.

Jean's mother Catherine, who is talking with Jean's grandparents casts worried glances between the staggering man and the cake placed on the table behind. I bite my lip, repressing a chuckle at her expression. The poor woman must be asking herself what kind of friends her son and son-in-law surround themselves with.

 

Reiner stops in the midst of a twist when a familiar bassline and gentle tambourine beat purr through the speakers, replacing the electronic synthetizer. His head snaps towards the source of the sound, his hands gesturing widly at Bertholdt to shut up although the guy isn't even talking nor standing anywhere close to him. When he finally turns to face us, he looks _ecstatic_.

 

"Baaaabe, it's our song!" the brawny man-child shouts over to Bert who is sitting at their table, muttering pained words I can't hear.

 

Jean takes his phone out from his pocket right as Reiner spreads his arms around him, crying _"I can't liiiiiiiiive"_ to the skies and starts filming.

 

"For posterity's sake" he explains, barely able to quiet down his laughter and not jerk his phone away.

Bertholdt remains glued to his chair in shock, squeaking an inaudible string of curse as he watches the wreckage happening without being able to tear his eyes away from it. I had never seen someone looking so eager to be struck by lightning before.

Jean tucks his phone back in his pants with a shit-eating grin, irradiating sheer and utter _bliss._

 

"This is the best day of my life" he declares, nodding approvingly at one of Reiner's moves.

 

"Because Reiner is completely wasted, dancing half naked and singing to U2 or because you married me?" I joke.

Jean's wicked grin  widens, revealing glimpses of white teeth.

"At the moment it's hard to tell. 50/50, maybe?" he teases, leaning into my shoulder to plant a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I stare down at him, doing my best to look unimpressed.

 

"Oh really? Damn, if I'd known I would have spared wearing a suit by this heat then" I retort sarcastically.

 

"Wait, let me think for a second" he cuts me off with a finger, humming quietly as he mulls over the question.

 

"Mainly because I married you. 80% I'd say" he conceives, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I raise my eyebrows at that.

 

"Since when are you the one specialised in figures?" I ask him, biting my lip to prevent myself from cracking up. He looks like he's waiting for me to let it out and I won't grant him the pleasure of doing so.

That's what he gets for playing the jerk.

 

"I may suck at Math _sir,_ but I do know my basics. Conversely, there are plenty of other things I'm great at sucking from what I've heard" he points out, sipping innocently at his glass.

 

I cough and choke on the water I've been drinking as it goes down the wrong pipe, feeling a blush creeping up my neck and settling on my cheeks. _Jesus Christ._

Jean snickers and clasps me on the back a few times, looking very pleased with himself. Right as I'm about to retort him a witty remark, he bridges the gap between us and drowns my riposte with a kiss, his teeth grazing the skin of my lower lip.

I pretty much forget my own name for a second and I curse myself for letting him win. I can't help but surrender when his tongue chafes against mine in a playful lick, and I hardly swallow back the moan forming in my throat. _Fuck._

 

"Actually" he nods to himself thoughtfully after breaking the kiss,"this is 100% because I married you" he affirms, one of his rare saccharine smiles blooming on his lips.

They are pink and swollen from the kiss and the light stubble of his jaw is starting to prickle under my fingers. He usually sports the beard look but he knows I like it better when he's clean-shaven. The attention brings a smile to my lips.

Even after five years spent learning every quirk and twist of his every expressions, there is always something new that makes me fall in love with him all over again; it being as simple as the change of light against a patch of his skin or the way his voice sounds huskier yet softer when he's tired.

It's the little things, the ones that build him and make him perfectly unperfect in every way. How could I ever get bored of this? Of him? He surprises me all the time.

 

"Get a room, you two!" Connie shouts, bursting our bubble and throwing a crumpled napkin at us. I grin as I leave a final peck on Jean's lips, Jean parting reluctantly with a frustrated grumble.

 

"Fuck off Springer, it's my wedding day!" he huffs loudly, throwing the small ball back at Connie but missing him by a good three feet. I smirk at Jean's fuming face, Connie's sniggers only aggravating the redness in his ears.

 

We all cringe at one of Reiner's loud shriek, the drunk man calling for Bert to join him on the dance floor with an annoying high-pitched cry that rises above the music.

The bulky blonde is moving his hips along the beat, pointing at and mouthing the lyrics to his flustered boyfriend who is growing alarmingly red by the second. Reiner seems to have forgotten he's not the only one in the room though, as he runs into Hange and Moblit who are talking with Armin about the progress of his PhD.

The shorter blonde tries to catch Reiner before he stumbles upon them but unfortunately for him, the mass of muscles in his arms trips over his shoes and knocks Hange's glass from their hand, spilling its content all over their shirt in a splash of red wine.

 

I'm certain Jean regrets putting back his phone so soon.

 

Reiner tries to wipe off the worst of the growing stain with his sleeve, stuttering a series of heartfelt apologies but Hange waves him off casually and assures him the shirt was an old one anyways. In his defence, Reiner does look apologetic. On the other hand, Bert looks like he's on the verge of fainting.

Jean and I exchange a quick glance and burst out of laughing simultaneously, our combined laughter only increasing when we spot Catherine visibly sigh of relief that the pièce montée hasn't suffered from Reiner's boundless enthusiasm.

 

_This night really can't get any better._

 

The music then switches for the soothing sound of an acoustic guitar, the dance floor clearing of any remaining single dancers to leave room for the couples. Jean shuffles on his chair so that he can face me, wiping off tears of mirth from his eyes.

 

"You want to go back?" he asks me, indicating the direction of the dance floor with his thumb where Bert is profusely apologizing to Hange on behalf of his boyfriend. I shake my head with a smile, pointing at the table opposite to ours.

 

"Looks like this one isn't for us. Look over there" I tell him.

 

Stopping in the middle of his conversation with Mikasa, Eren exclaims excitedly when he recognizes the first notes of the song and grasps hurriedly Armin's hand, dragging him amid the dancing couples.

 

The only ones left are swinging to the rhythm of gentle guitar and violin; Ymir and Krista are barely moving anymore, too busy melting into a kiss that doesn't seem to end. Coach Levi and Erwin, my Biology tutor in college are waltzing elegantly a bit further, fitting perfectly like two pieces of the same puzzle.

My eyes land on Sasha and Connie who are swinging aimlessly on the spot, talking quietly to each other, both looking eerily serious. Sasha is worrying her lip between her teeth as Connie murmurs something in her ear but I can't figure out what they're saying.

 

Just as I am about to ask Jean what he thinks is going on, I notice he has discretely disappeared from his chair. I crane my neck to see where he has gone to but I can't seem to find him amidst the flash of neon lights and silhouettes blocking my vision.

Frowning slightly, I return my attention back to the dancefloor just as Armin and Eren's laughter reach me, the couple grinning and moving effortlessly across the room. Eren tries to dip Armin for a cinema kiss at one point, everyone around them cackling when he almost drops him.

A few golden strands fall from Armin's messy bun and around his face as he giggles gleefully, Eren smiling down at him. I feel my heart swell in my chest at the sight.

 

They both look so happy and carefree even if only for a moment that I forget about the nights spent listening to Armin's ragged breath at the other end of the phone, after he's had another nightmare in which Eren didn't make it out alive.

For one blissful moment, the black shadows marking their features vanish, their youth shining through the dark clouds hovering above their heads and they finally look like they're 26 again.

 

I only sense the presence sneaking up my back when darkness swallows up the world and I feel rough fabric being tied up at the back of my head.

 

"What the-" I stutter, reaching for the thick cloth covering my eyes but someone swats my hand away before I can remove it.

"Keep the blindfold on" Krista's crystal voice instructs ( _when the_ hell _did she leave the dance floor?_ ) as she ties the blindfold tighter and checks that I can't see anything. "Jean's got a surprise for you", she clarifies, her voice close to my ear while the music dies around us.

 

Involutary goosebumps run along my arms at her words, her warm breath tingling the skin on my neck. I find myself fidgetting nervously, stomach churning with anticipation and excitement as she grips my arm and helps me get up from my chair.

 _A surprise?_ I wonder, quirking a questioning eyebrow at no one in particular. Being left in the dark is an unsettling feeling I'm not very fond of but I guess I can make an exception for tonight.

 

Now that the music has stopped, I make out the curious voices of guests gathering on the dance floor and behind me. I hear one loud _thud_ coming from my right, more raspy sounds and even _grunting_ _-God, what is happening here-_ followed by muffled groans that I vaguely recognize as Reiner and Connie's. I fight the urge to peep from under the cloth; Jean would probably kill me if I did. I mean, he wouldn't do something so radical but he would surely not be happy if I spoiled his surprise.

 

Krista gently rests a hand on my shoulder and guides me to a chair further in the room, retreating just as quickly as she came but depositing a light peck on my cheek before she leaves.

 

The distinct sound of a tuning bass guitar snaps my attention back ahead but before I can dwell on it, the shrill sound of a mic coming too close to a speaker makes me wince and grit my teeth. Ymir's voice then booms through the speakers, closer to me than I'd expected and making me jump:

 

"Is everybody there?" she asks, panting like she has ran a mile or carried something very heavy.

 

"Alright; Hello to all again! As you can see, Jean has wanted to surprise Marco in celebration of their union by doing something special. So here we are!"

 

 _It would be lovely to see what the heck this surprise is about, though,_ I muse impatiently.

 

"I hope you like your present, Freckles" she addresses to me, sounding like she would punch me in the face if I dared to be anything but thrilled in return. _Now that wouldn't be really surprising._ I chuckle lightly at the thought, still unable to see anything but pitch black darkness, not a single light piercing through the blindfold.

I'm literally wriggling on my chair by now, the curiosity and impatience cursing in my nervous system and making it hard not to give in and rip the cloth on my eyes away. Ymir must have heard my prayers though as she speaks again, the smile evident in her voice:

 

"You can take out the blindfold, Marco!"

 

In one swift motion, I tear the blindfold away and blink a few times, my eyes laboriously adjusting to the stark contrast of blinding lights compared to the darkness I was plunged in for a few minutes. After a little while, my gaze focuses and directs on the plateform in front of me. I can only gape stupidly at the view.

 

Ymir, Connie, Luke and Jean are standing on a plateform placed against the farthest wall of the dance floor, all occupying a stage that could as well have fallen from the sky. _Ah, that explains the grunts I heard._

Connie and Luke are positioned on each side of the stage, electric bass guitars passed over their shoulders and huge smiles plastered on their faces. Ymir's impressive stance is ranked to the down-stage where she leads the band. She finishes plugging her guitar on a loudspeaker and smiles her trademark arrogant smirk when she takes in my expression. Behind her, a set of drums is installed up-stage where I spot Jean, grinning back at me in an almost bashful way.

A huge grin cracks up on my face when I meet his eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. I'm unable to utter a word from the shock but my emotion must be showing on my face as his smile stretches even wider.

 

The beginning of a rapid solo guitar tune booms from the speakers and right to my core as Ymir hits the cords of her red electric Gibson, goosebumps travelling down my arms and my spine right to the tip of my toes. The smile growing on my face threatens to split it in two.

 

_He remembered._

 

This is definitely not what I had in mind.

This is _ten times better_ than what I could have ever imagined.

Oh, and thrilled I definitely _am._

 

Ymir's hands move nimbly on the cords like she makes one with the strings, notes coming to life effortlessly under her digits as Connie, Luke and quickly Jean join her in the song. I sense myself mouth the lyrics along out of my own accord, feeling too elated to even care if people hear or see me. They're too busy watching the stage anyways.

 

" _Hello,_ " Ymir's voice hums, stretching out the word with this deep voice of hers,

 

_"I've waited here for you, everlong"_

 

Her singing voice is so different from her usual drawling tone that it takes me aback for a second, the sharp edges around her words souding clearer and smoother than ever.

 

I haven't had the chance to hear her sing much in the past, only attending two or three dates during Uni from lack of time. I wonder why it surprises me, though. Listening to her now, it appears somewhat obvious to me that she could only be good at it; the way her voice flows like clearwater and ripples down the room with ease.

For as long as I've known her, she's always had the artistic fibre and the talent ingrained within her.

 

I drum my hands on my thighs in sync with Jean who meets my gaze over the stage and we both laugh, my heart beating so fast and the tightness in my stomach loosening so rapidly I must be floating.

 

I smile until my cheeks hurt and there are bubbles of laughter bursting in my chest. The moment is so corny yet so incredibly moving because once again, I marvel at his ability to show me how much he cares in the simplest of ways. Jean not only reunited his own _goddamn band_ to play my favourite song of all time at our wedding, no. He's showing me the little details are the ones that matter the most. The things people usually brush off as unnecessary data; they're the ones that count for him, for us. They're important.

 

The rollercoaster in my chest reaches a peak as Ymir begins chanting the chorus; Jean's amber eyes meet hazel once again, our lips both mouthing the lyrics in perfect sync and for _one_ second, one second that feels like an eternity, it's just the two of us standing at the edge of the world.

The lyrics fit so perfectly in the moment, it makes my heart race against my ribcage and losing myself in his eyes, I can almost feel it _glow._

 

 

_"And I wonder, when I sing along with you,_

  
_If everything could ever feel this real forever,_

  
_If anything could ever be this good again,_

  
_The only thing I'll ever ask of you,_

  
_You gotta promise not to stop when I say when...she sang!"_

 

 

I close my eyes and taste the pulse of drums and guitar strings on my tongue, I feel the pull and release of blood pumping in my veins harmonize with the melody. I relish into the sounds, the colours even the smells, capturing this moment as accurately as I can without omitting one single detail.

_This is what it is about, I think, this is moments like these that makes it all worth it._

_Living._

 

The end of the song comes far too quickly for my own liking.

I open my eyes slowly, the last few strings of electric guitar and rolls of cymbals echoing in the air before the room bursts into deafening applause and shameless whistles. My knees buckle as I stand but they don't give out when I walk, my gaze falling on the faces of my friend, my brother, my cousin successively and the love of my life, my husband at last.

He's looking right back at me, not bothering to hide the gigantic smile on his face as he jumps down the stage to meet me halfway.

 

"You liked it?" he asks me eagerly, his eyes twinkling with pride when he stops in front of me and I freaking _melt_ on the spot.

He's waiting for me to reply, his smile faltering a little when no words come out of my mouth but I just can't _speak_.

Still not trusting my voice, I nod a few times to let him know that I _did_ and wrap my arms around his shoulders, finding my place in the crook of his neck. His chuckles reverberate through my arms and chest as he hugs me back, nuzzling his chin on my shoulder like he usually does.

 

"I love you" he whispers in my ear, the guests keeping clapping and cheering around us. The comforting scent of honey wax mixed with sweat and something indeniably _him_ slows down the wild beating of my heart, matching with Jean's steady rate pulsing against my lips where my mouth meets his carotid.

I nestle further into him and whisper back, almost inaudibly:

"I love you, too"

At this exact moment, I'm not sure these three little words are just enough, though.

 

 

**

 

 

We follow the few guests heading towards the quiet of their rooms, feeling tired but happy and Jean all but dragging me by the hand as I crawl more than I walk. The late hours of the night start to weigh heavy on my shoulders. My eyelids are dropping and my feet are sore from being trapped in Italian shoes for too long.

I yearn for the blissful hours ahead of me sleeping in Jean's arms, curled up in the warm bed waiting for us when we are suddenly stopped by a shy greeting coming from the speakers.

Everybody, including Jean and I, throw a quizzical glance at the plateform where Sasha stands, biting her lip and waving a timid hand at us.

 

"Hi to all, I know you all really want to go to sleep now but we have one last surprise for the grooms" she apologizes as she takes a quick glance at the thin watch around her wrist.

"Jeez, it's already 3 A.M" she exclaims, "Okay, I'll make this quick, promise!"

 

She waves hurriedly at someone down-stage to join her on the plateform. The tired faces around us turn back curiously to the stage, Jean looking as clueless as I do next to me. _It's not something he has been informed of, then._

I frown deeply, Jean squeezing my hand in his but I only shake my head in return when he stares at me in confusion. I don't know what's going on either.

Connie climbs the few stairs to the stage in few quick strides and stops next to Sasha, craddling a small box in his hands. She tightens her grip anxiously around the mic and smoothes imaginary creases on her dress with her free hand before bringing the pic to her lips once more.

 

"Jean, Marco, if you would please join us on stage. I promise it won't last long" Sasha demands, her voice sounding hesistant as she bites her lip once more. Seeing Sasha self-conscious is discerning; her usually so unapologetic looks now slightly uncomfortable under our combined stare. She keeps shuffling her feet, waiting for us to move.

Exchanging another puzzled look, Jean and I walk together towards the stairs and slowly climb our way to the center of the stage where Sasha and Connie are waiting. I see excitement sparkle in Connie's eyes as he hands the square box in his hands to Jean.

 

"We didn't know if it was the right time to do this" Connie explains, rubbing nervously the back of his neck where his compass tattoo indicates north. We study him for a bit longer but before either of us can ask any question, he speaks again:

 

"Open it" he commands, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he watches us expectantly, a grin stretching on his face. I chuckle at his impatience, directing my attention back to Jean and the box. The familiar scowl on his features has returned, his brows knitted in confusion as he stares at the package without opening it.

 

"It doesn't bite, does it?" he asks suspiciously.

 

The question must be some kind of obscure inside joke between the two of them because Connie and Sasha both start laughing, their eyes glinting with amusement.

 

"Not yet, no" Sasha replies mysteriously.

 

Jean's cautious gaze flickers between his sister and his best friend for a moment before he starts undoing the ribbon at the top. My eyes briefly dart over to Sasha who starts fidgetting even more with the loose thread of her bracelets.

The box seems weightless in Jean's hand and as far as we know it could be very well empty. His eyes meet mine for a second before I hurry him to remove the lid, my hands twitching with anticipation.

 

I don't understand what I'm looking at, at first. There is a black and white framed picture of a shapeless form; it reminds me of the cards used in therapy for patients to use and guess what they think they're seeing. _It looks vaguely like a bean,_ I muse, cocking my head to the side.

I raise my head to ask them what I am supposed to look at but before I can open my mouth, my eyes trail over Jean's face and I'm stopped dead on my tracks.

He looks positively _stunned_.

 

Frustration building up within me, I return my gaze on the picture and notice a scribbled handwriting under the picture I haven't seen before.

I don't process the words for one endless second, my mind not registering the meaning of the second word as if it has never encountered it before.

Bewildered, I stare at Jean who still hasn't said a word, hasn't moved nor breathed, his fingertips hovering over the picture incredulously.

 

_Is it-_

 

I see Jean at the corner of my eye briskly lift his head. There is a beat of silence before he dares to speak again, the frame in his hand trembling slightly. I can't tear my eyes away from the words though; I repeat them over and over in my head until they don't make sense anymore, as if my mind refuses obstinately to grasp their meaning.

 

_It is-_

 

The words kick in finally, but I can't even breathe as the air is being sucked out from my lungs. My vision blurs.

 

 _"Hello Uncle",_ Jean rolls the words tentatively on his tongue like they feel alien in his mouth _._ My eyes snap to Sasha and Connie's faces, the overwhelming rush of emotions slapping me back to reality.

In the following silence, the world could have been holding his _breath_ for how still the atmosphere is.

Sasha allows the wet laugh bubbling in her throat to rush past her lips and answers the question burning mine:

 

"I'm due at the end of December" she announces shyly, Connie's hand coming to wrap itself protectively around her belly.

"You're going to be uncles."

 

There's a pause where I don't hear anything but the rush of blood in my head, white noise buzzing in my ears as the words carve themselves with matter-of-factly finality.

Because it is a fact.

 

_You're going to be uncles._

 

I launch myself at their neck with a gasp, babbling incoherent words that I meant to be _thanks_ but the blow threatens to floor me and how fucking _sweet_ this blast is.

 

 _Uncles,_ I freak out, _We're going to be_ Uncles.

 

They squeeze me tight in their arms, their laughter and my tears mingling with the surprised gasps and congratulations thrown at the couple by the remaining guests. I let go of them and turn around to take Jean in my arms but I stop myself from reaching out when I see his face.

He hasn't moved an inch for the past two minutes and I can't read the expression on his face. Worried, I walk back to him but before I can rest my hand on his shoulder, his eyes rise slowly, so slowly to meet his sister's brown ones.

Sasha's smile wobbles as she opens her mouth to say something but Jean's voice interrupts her before the words can leave her mouth.

 

I feel my stomach plummet to the ground and beyond at the sound of his voice. His _tone_.

 

"I'm going to be an Uncle?" he asks shakily, to her and her only, his eyes boring into hers with a fire I forgot he had still in him. His amber eyes are brimming with unshed tears, tears he won't allow to fall until Sasha confirms this is real, that this isn't some kind of big _sick_ joke that she will rip away from his hands only to watch him crash and burn.

He looks so _vulnerable_.

 

And it hurts, it fucking _cuts_ through my heart, because I know he remembers another time where this moment of pure and utter joy had been taken away from us. In the bat of an eye, finding the silver lining in the storm after years of waiting to watch it slip through our fingers.

 

All these years of waiting, and all for _nothing_.

 

 _Her name was Maria,_ I remember with a dull pang in my chest, _she was 8 and a half. She had a sun-kissed face and a missing tooth at the front. She had red hair and bright green eyes._

Maria had been taken into another foster family after a year and the gaping hole she left behind had engulfed any hope we had left to be parents.

 

We never mentioned her again nor signed up for another custody afterwards. We built walls around us thick enough to be bulletproof, buried the longing and the pain deep down where it could no longer harm. We shoved all our dreams into a box, locked it and tossed the key at sea without a glance back. We just couldn't afford it.

 

And it's so _stupid_ how the thought we'd get to become _uncles_ one day never crossed our minds after that. It's more hope than we've dared to feel in a long time, it's all the perks without the cons and _how could we have forgotten about this possibility?_

 

I look at him and I know he's scared, he's _terrified_ because he's feeling the very same hope I haven't allowed myself to feel for the past two years.

 _This time it's different though,_ I want to scream at him, _hoping isn't deadly anymore because_ _this is_ real.

 

Sasha bridges the few steps gap between her and her brother, cupping his cheek in her hand softly as she studies his face for a moment. She locks eyes briefly with him, then me and I read it in her eyes. She had been there all along, she knew what we had to go through.

She's saying that it's our chance to taste the happiness we've been deprived of for so long. That this is our gift just as much as it is theirs.

I inhale sharply, fresh tears rolling down my cheek and getting lost in my shirt.

 

Jean expulses a shaky breath through his nose at the touch of her hand, the fire in his eyes burning, begging for her to say it again. He won't allow himself to feel it otherwise.

He lost so much the last time he allowed himself to _hope_.

 

"We meant to tell you earlier but we wanted to reach the first term before announcing the pregnancy to any of you. The baby is healthy, everything is going just fine" Sasha assures with a smile.

 

"You're going to be an uncle, Jean" she repeats solemnly, her thumb patting his cheek gently as a bright toothed smile blooms on her lips.

 

And Jean shines like the fucking _sun_.

 

He squeezes her in his arms tight enough to bruise, the tears falling carelessly on his cheeks as he mutters over and over again two words that break my heart and mend it back together simultaneously: _Thank you_.

 

"Happy wedding day, sweetheart" she whispers in his ear loud enough for us to hear, her face stained with happy tears. Jean screws his eyes shut for a split second before he opens them again and meets Connie's gaze beyond her shoulder. He lets go of Sasha with a kiss on her temple and strides towards his best friend, taking him in his arms with an incredulous shake of his head.

 

"You're too young to be a father, Springer" Jean's muffled voice laughs.

"Thank God I have six months left to catch up and learn how to adult" Connie smirks, grasping Jean's shoulder in a heartfelt grip.

"You're going to be a great dad, Con" Jean says sincerely as he looks Connie in the eye. They both grin like fools until Jean releases his grip on him and turns around to me.

 

I chuckle breathlessly when his liquid fire eyes meet mine, our bodies still shaking with emotion in the aftermath. Right here and now, I feel something that I thought was irrevocably lost come back to life within me and I know he does, too.

He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. We know exactly what the other feels and there aren't many words in this world to put on the feeling, anyways.

 

The myriad of emotions all comes down to one single word.

 

_Finally._

 

 

**

 

 

I don't register much of what happens afterwards; I recall being curled up in his arms and the sensation of my heart hammering in my chest. I remember our parents coming over to Sasha and Connie to congratulate them, Jean's mother dabbing at her eyes and my own mother throwing pointed glares at Luke, who had coughed a few times in his fist to hide a grimace.

I don't remember what has been said nor by whom. The sound of voices had been drown out by the chaos of emotions swirling in my body and mind.

Jean's warmth is now leading me across the garden and towards our room, the chilly breeze of the night a welcome change against the heat of my skin. The silence around us is only disturbed by the sound of locusts and the calm measure of our breaths. I'm grateful for him calling it a night after we offered our last congratulations to the future parents. I feel exhausted. At this point I'm only standing upright by willpower alone, driven by the call of my bed and the promise of a good night of sleep.

 

We don't speak but the silence isn't an uncomfortable one; with him, it never is. The sky is full of bright stars above our heads. We watch over the sky silently, both getting lost in our own thoughts for a little while and calmly walking beside each other. We don't speak until we reach the shelter of our room.

Jean turns to me as soon as I close the room behind me, stopping me from flicking the lights on by cupping my jaw in his hands and depositing a sweet kiss on my lips.

 

I melt into him, my muscles relaxing under his touch. I break the kiss with a half smile tugging at my lips and wait for him to speak, listening to his short intake of breath turn into a light chuckle.

 

"I thought my surprise was a good one but little did I know what these two had hidden up their sleeves" he says, his low voice echoing softly in the dark.

 

"I know right. And I didn't even get a chance to give you mine" I sigh. Though I can barely make out his silhouette in the faint light of the moon, I feel him smile in my arms.

 

"Oh really?" he slurs seductively, the machinery of his dirty mind already jumping to conclusions before I have a chance to explain myself. I can almost _see_ the perceptible wriggle of his eyebrows in the dark. _What a dork._

I stop him before he raises his hopes too high, hushering him with an index.

 

"Sex is not involved in this so keep it in your pants for now, sailor" I grin.

 

I let the "for now" slips through because after all, I have absolutely nothing against the idea -mind you- and as tired as I might be, I still have resources left within me.

I just want to give him his present before I forget and we get into other tempting activities that require being naked under the covers.

He groans in frustration when I batt his hand away from the buttons of my shirt and turn to flick the lights on.

 

"Look under the bed" I tell him, taking off my shoes with a sigh of relief when the pressure loosens around my toes. _Gosh, that's nice._

 

"I've had my fair share of emotions for the day so I hope it's nothing too mind-blowing" he huffs as he crouches down to peek under the bed.

 

"I definitely can't beat Sasha and Connie's announcement, if that's what you mean" I chuckle, closing the curtains and hopping onto the mattress.

 

With a victorious _ah!,_ Jean bounces back on his heels and sits opposite to me on the bed, gingerly placing the box on the covers and between us. He waits patiently, only quirking an eyebrow in a silent plea before I give him the nod to open it.

I study his face intently while his fingertips skim over the engraved cursive letters on the case, inside the box. A huge grin cracks up his face when he realizes what it is.

 

" _You didn't_ " he whispers faintly, his eyes glowing with excitement as they raise to meet  mine.

 

His face is definitely worth the picture. He looks like a kid receiving a puppy for Christmas.

 

I grin stupidly in return, scraping the back of my head a bit self-consciously before I speak again:

"I had to ask Connie which one you would like better in his opinion, I know next to nothing about tattoo machines..." I tell him, the end of my explanation dying on my tongue when he starts shaking his head incredulously.

He opens his mouth and stutters, clearly dumbfounded:

 

"Marco, these cost _an arm and a leg_!" he protests, his brows knitted sternly together but the wanted scolding effect gets lost when he takes the black and faded golden tattoo machine in his hands, feeling the fabric under his touch.

 

He turns it around, holding it like it's the Holy Grail itself and studying the way the light catches the material of the coils (that's what Connie calls them at least). He hums a low whistle while his thumb brushes lightly over the carved _Hendricks_ trademark on the front.

 

"You shouldn't h-" he starts with another shake of his head but I cut him off before he can protest any further.

 

"Do you _like_ it?" I press him in return, searching his eyes with mine.

 

He looks torn between protesting some more and smack me on the head for a few seconds, until he puts the machine back into its case carefully and slides it aside. I let out a surprised yelp when he tackles me to the bed, pinning me down to the mattress with his legs. My giggles are muffled by the kisses he covers my face with.

 

"I _love_ it" he declares with a grin, planting more kisses on my nose and cheeks. "I love _you_ , thank you."

 

I flop my head down on the mattress and grin brightly back at him, pushing the fallen strands of light brown away from his forehead.

 

"I'm glad" I whisper as he leans forward and lingers his lips on mine, the sweet taste of honey intoxicating my senses I almost forget to say the words back. I gasp them between his lips instead, meaning them each time more than the last time:

 

"I love you, too."

 

 

We fumble into a haze afterwards; there are desperate nails digging and scratching  heated skin, flushed chests pressed against another, gasped sighs and mantra of names being uttered between brushing lips. The steady beat of his heart against my ear lulles me back to sleep in the aftermath; I dream of stars and fire, of a cloudless future and afternoons spent in the park with childish giggles bubbling in the air. I dream of alternate universes, of smoke and flames licking the sky, bonfires that turn into a floral arch in summer.

 

I swear I hear Jean murmur my name one last time before the slumber finally takes over me.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADAAAAAAAA. I won't apologize for my Foo Fighters obsession neither will I apologize for the angsty parts (this really summarizes me well). ALSO YES I've made a reference to Tim Hendricks! I really love his work and his tattoo machines are all gorgeous (please tell me my brother and I aren't the only ones who think he's Edward Norton hidden twin).  
> I want to say a big THANK YOU to anyone who has read this story until the end, as well as a huge shout out to anyone who has left comments/kudos/subscribed. You all individually brought a smile to my lips and gave me the motivation to end this story I've came to love so much. Really, I've never finished a multi chapters fic/novel before so it means a lot to me.  
> ALRIGHT I STOP WITH THE SAPPINESS
> 
> Playlist for this chapter (in order):
> 
> \- Jabberwocky // Pola (Reiner's sexy dance)  
> \- U2 // With or Without You (Reibert song)  
> \- Ed Sheeran // One (Eremin song)  
> \- Foo Fighters // Everlong (one of my fav songs ever as well, Marco and I have a lot in common)  
> \- Mumford and Sons // Thistle & Weeds (Jean and Marco's memories during the last big scene)  
> \- Kodaline // The One (because it is SUCH a Jeanmarco song, please listen)
> 
> ALSO Please listen to Kodaline Latch's cover, I've been playing it while writing this chapter and don't have the words to say how much I love it.
> 
> You can find the complete playlist of this fic on Spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/user/manona453/playlist/6uR9bTCb8NkzfoINIDu6Ve (which I recommend listening to while reading but only if you want to!)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr here: https://imademychoice.tumblr.com or here: https://itsalwaysdarkst.tumblr.com (the first link is my anime blog but i'm more active on the second blog) Don't hesitate to pop up to say hi!
> 
> Don't forget to comment to let me know what you thought of this chapter or the fic in its whole!!!!!! xx

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD YOU GUYS. Okay so I just finished the Wisteria series and I'm face-palming and doing very weird noises??? All the shared headcanons, it's simply mind-blowing. I can't believe this...this is so weird but in a good weird way? Go read it if you haven't, it's probably one of my favourite Jeanmarco fics!!


End file.
